


Smudged

by Dichotomous_Dragon



Series: Prowess [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorian teaching Trev how to do her makeup, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Makeup, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3654771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dichotomous_Dragon/pseuds/Dichotomous_Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lady Inquisitor has a dinner date with her puppy-eyed Commander. Trevelyan wants to look nice and dress up for the occasion, but is woefully ill-equipped to deal with make-up and its application. Fortunately, she has a talented friend who can help!</p><p>Or, Dorian teaches Trevelyan how to put on eyeliner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smudged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kess/gifts), [Alphabetiful](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphabetiful/gifts).



> Ohhhh boy, the fluffiness. I was absolutely this inept at ladylike things but I hope Lady Trev remains believable. Thank you Kess for the prompt and Alphabetiful for the Adoribull encouragement :D

**Smudged**

Evelyn twiddled her thumbs, messing with the sleeve of her dress. Her _dress_ , not a mage robe or that ridiculous beige outfit the advisors had her wear. It was a simple blue affair with full sleeves, tapered in at the waist and V'ed in the neckline just enough to show a suitable amount of creamy, pale skin. She was also fidgeting more than Dorian had ever seen her do, cataclysmically outside her element, apparently. She was sitting beside him on a stool in her room, the two of them shoulder to shoulder in front of her vanity mirror. If she picked up any more blatant, nervous movement with her hands she was going to knock him off his seat.

The woman was damn near humming with nerves; he had never realized one could fidget so much in so small a space. Dorian allowed himself a small, fond sigh before pulling her attention back to the matter they'd met to address.

"My dear, you're going to put an eye out if you don't sit still," the man said gently, meeting her gaze in the mirror glass. Evelyn raised her blue-grey eyes meet Dorian's, nibbling on her lip until the other mage flicked her in the leg. "Don't ruin your lips before Cullen gets a chance to, either! Honestly."

"I have _no idea_ what I'm doing," the Inquisitor said meekly, not even berating him for the tease. She sounded more like a twenty-something sheltered female than she did a shaper of worlds, just then. Rather drastic shift, that.

"On the makeup? You hardly need it, but it does work wonders for special occasions," Dorian replied honestly. She had good skin, fair as a porcelain plate though all their time in the sun lately had darkened her to off-white. Evelyn made a rude noise, a small smile breaking past her worry.

"Oh, _I_ hardly need it? Really. _Really?_ This coming from you, Messere Profile-in-Marble, perfection walking. Right. It's _me_ that doesn't need it." She shook her head as the gentle chime of his laughter filled her cavernous bedroom, the mirth hiding the warmth her flattery spread through his chest. The disgusted noise she made could rival the Seeker's. 

"Yes, well, no such thing as 'too much' perfection, now is there?" He cleared his throat, still smiling rather broadly. "Now, to business. Did Leliana give you the goods?"

"Yes," Trevelyan murmured, pulling a couple small jars out of a drawer. "Eye shadow....foundation, and...blush, maybe?"

"Perfect. I don't use them, but even if I did mine wouldn't work for your skin tone," the 'vint remarked. The startled look on his friend's face stopped him dead.

"That _matters?_ " The Inquisitor asked, all youthful disbelief. He laughed, once, but saw the widening of her eyes and smothered it.

"Ahem, yes, yes it does. Much like eye shadow is chosen to accentuate the colors in one's irises, foundation is based on skin tone."

"Sounds like we should be laying brick, not playing with powders." 

"Now you're having me on," the male replied, giving her a flat look and sounding oddly like Sera when Varric had her over a barrel with one of his tales: those moments when it was hard to tell fact from fiction. "Is this another of those southern inclinations of yours? Pretending to be clueless?"

"Perhaps," she said, tucking a loose strand of reddish-brown hair behind her ear, "-but only if you leave the 'pretending' part off. I really am that clueless, Dorian." She sighed, meeting his eye in the mirror again, mouth curled up a little sardonically. "Not a lot of practice in the Circle, not for me, anyway. Some of the girls did it. I...didn't. Too busy practicing things that actually mattered, you know?" He smiled at her again, encouraging.

"Quite. You ceaseless talent for killing things _does_ come in handy. I am rather glad you take more after your northern cousins than your southern compatriots, in that regard." _That_ got Trevelyan's small grin back in earnest. "Besides, I am here now. I submit, your humble servant," he bowed, an interesting contortion in a tall man sitting, "-to help make up for the South's woeful neglect of your education. Now, if you will pick up that brush, we'll get started."

 

It took something like an hour. Much laughing and several "do-overs" were had, serious strategies made real, as Dorian lined one of his eyes and then made Trevelyan mimic what he'd done. It took her three tries to get her left eye lined with kohl as he did, though it only took her twice with the right. As in the times they'd practiced magic together the woman proved a quick learner, throwing her whole being into trying to perfect her technique even when she'd broken down to rapid-fire swearing as she smudged her lips. That, too, had been fixed by a kind word, a steady hand, and a much-used washcloth that bore the stains of her previous mistakes.

"...Well?" Dorian asked when they were done, watching his friend in the mirror. Trevelyan's eyes were lined, highlighted with blue shadow and the barest hint of a pale pink blush on her cheeks. Her lips were tinted a slightly darker pink. All of it was perfect, drawing attention to the Inquisitor's finer features rather than overwhelming with color. The male mage was nearly as done up (examples, after all) having lined his eyes with black as usual but adding in the slight dust of gold to eyelids and cheekbones that he saved for special occasions, typically. _All made up and nowhere to go_ he thought; the little pang of sadness was gone in less than a blink, however, as he watched Evelyn staring at herself in the mirror with a look of awe. She really did not give herself enough credit, he knew, and thought herself plain. His teeth flashed in a private smile. _Certainly the Commander doesn't think so._ One more reason to appreciate their ex-Templar.

A heavy knock on the door interrupted his revelry and Dorian glanced at Trevelyan. She was fiddling with her hair and gave him a quick glance and a nod before returning to the fight in earnest. The 'vint obliged her without even a grumble, opening the door to wind up facing a substantial portion of grey skin and large, heavy muscles beneath.

The Iron Bull actually looked surprised for a moment, his eye wide as he took in the Tevinter mage and the Inquisitor behind him. The momentary wonder did not linger long; his laugh lines slid into being as the Qunari's face broke into a wide grin. Dorian cleared his throat, suddenly overwarm. Behind him, Trevelyan waved at Bull as she fought with a shoe.

"Dorian. Boss." How did the lummox's smile show _every one_ of his teeth?? Dorian folded his arms for something to do with them, looking properly slighted. "The Commander is ready when you are, Boss, said dinner will be delivered within the hour." The Bull's gaze did not budge from the 'vint as he spoke to the Inquisitor, that broad grin still on his face. "--though, you may want to head over soon. Cullen's not going to be able to speak for awhile,once he sees you in that outfit, let alone eat. Be a shame to let the food get cold." 

"Thank you Bull," she replied, her voice small and her cheeks flaming. "I'll just be a moment." That left the Qunari still looking down at the other male in the room. The stood staring at one another in heavy silence for so long the mage started to fidget. 

"May I pay you a compliment?" Bull said suddenly. 

Dorian was taken aback by that, arms falling to his sides, head cocked sideways and one eyebrow quirked. "What an odd question." He thought about it a moment, a couple seconds too long for his retort to be as clever as he intended. "Have you ever heard me speak? I am quite enamored of statements that pay homage to my long list of positive qualities." Bull chuckled, right on cue, but didn't reply. Dorian had not answered the question. "Alright alright, very well, just get on with it!" He snapped, flustered.

Bull leaned down, resting warm palms on Dorian's shoulders. He drew past level, turning his horns away while putting his lips very close to the mage's ear. He smelled of the crisp bite of winter air, leather, and something slightly musky, heady and distinct. Dorian had called him pungent, once. Well, once a day. How one's tastes changed.

When Bull spoke his breath was warm against the tender flesh of Dorian's ear.

"You look good." The smile was audible in the comment, genuine and soft and rumbling in the lower pitches of the Qunari's voice.

"I always look good," Dorian retorted, sounding oddly strangled.

"You do," Bull agreed, but went on. "Right now, though, you look fucking _fantastic_. Something that ought to be treasured and coveted--all the better because I know how tough you are, under all that handsomeness." A hand lifted from Dorian's shoulder, drifting, almost as though it was going to cup around one gold-dusted cheek. Ultimately the Bull thought better of it, squeezing the mage's shoulder with his other grip before withdrawing completely. "Don't know why they ever let you leave the north, 'vint," a head shake. "Their loss." Dorian had gone rigid; over his shoulder Trevelyan had grown still, too. Bull lifted his head to reply to her. "This 'vint's been giving you good advice Boss, Cullen won't know what to do with himself when he sees how beautiful you look. Don't keep him waiting long." A nod to both of them and the big warrior was gone, the metallic thunk of every other step echoing off the chamber walls as the Bull receded down the stairs.

Dorian closed the door and after awhile, remembered to breathe. Trevelyan looked just as taken aback as he did, patting him gently on the shoulder.

"That was something," she said quietly, almost smiling but mostly looking dazed. Rather like she'd seen something important but couldn't quite grasp what. "I need to go, I guess. I can't thank you enough for--"

"Think nothing of it, my dear," he sounded as dazed as she looked, his brow furrowed just slightly. It was more composed than the open shock of a few minutes prior. Shaking himself, Dorian shooed Trevelyan out the door amidst her thanking him a half-dozen more times for his help. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek as her own pressing issues came back to her, hugging him as well before scurrying off to her dinner date with the Commander.

Heading back to his room, Dorian wondered if it was too early to head to the tavern. He also wondered (on an unrelated and absolutely not excited note) if Bull would be there.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback always welcome, as are other requests for a 'Prowess' fill! You kids are the best <3!!


End file.
